Chapter 4 #2
I’d gone away with the Rourke family for a three-day weekend to Dingle right before college started and had somehow been wrangled into spending a few days helping Ella’s dad foot turf with the rest of them at the end of the summer, so I was in the good books for at least a few weeks.
Ella peppered Shea with questions for the next five minutes about his life, Sorcha, how many kids he wanted, immigration, before he heaved a sigh of relief turning into Niamh’s estate.
“You’re the best,” I leaned over and gave Shea a quick peck on the cheek before hopping out, as Ella told Shea she’d text him some follow-up questions he hadn’t answered yet. She really loved to needle him every chance she got.
Niamh answered my knock holding up a luminous pink glass of something.
“Cocktail time!” she yelled out, slightly manically. As she ushered us inside, her boyfriend Dermot pecked her on the cheek as he slid past me with an “Enjoy yer night” as he headed to Keileys for pints.
Niamh and Dermot were a bit like Shea and Sorcha – young love.
They’d started going out when we were in third year and were still going strong all these years later.
They were like an old married couple, and you could set your watch by their routines.
As I passed into the hall, I paused in surprise as I took in Niamh’s narrow-eyed expression as she watched Dermot round the corner.
Realising I was watching her, she quickly plastered a smile onto her face, handing me the pink petrol concoction and whipping out the Chinese menu.
********
Since the very hot encounter with Ronan in the library last week, our interactions had been at a bare minimum.
I hadn’t seen him around campus, and he’d mostly just liked any stories I’d put up - which I’d been actively doing and obsessively checking every five minutes to see if he’d viewed them.
I waited until after the weekend to fill the girls in on this date because I was still half nervous it might fall through, and I couldn’t admit, even to myself, how anxious I was for it.
There was no denying it anymore; Ronan gave me all the feels.
Butterflies galore, plus he got me increasingly hot and bothered with the sheer sex appeal he exuded.
I had picked out six options for this date, which was hard considering I had no idea where we were going.
He hadn’t messaged yet to confirm if it was happening and now it was Wednesday morning, and I was too mortified to text him to confirm in case he’d forgotten about it.
Based on what he had said last week, this was the last tutorial he’d cover, so I took extra care to get ready this morning.
I’d skipped our usual Tuesday night out, so I was minus the hangover and general appearance of shit that I normally carried on Wednesdays.
Me staying in had nothing to do with Ronan; I was in desperate need of a detox while obsessing over my thesis, and besides, I was broke to the ropes in the run-up to Christmas.
Feeling fresh and looking good was a definite perk of that decision though.
I kept my makeup and hair as natural as possible (which took me a full hour to achieve) and wore my best yoga pants with the scrunch on the bum and a long-sleeved crop top under my bomber vest to keep up the ‘I just got out of bed’ facade I had going.
Cian was waiting for me at the coffee stand outside the Pearse Building with my oat milk latte in hand, it was his turn for the coffee run that week.
He was my closest friend here outside of the girls and the only person in my course I was friends with.
The rest of our class of 45 fell under the definition of dry-shites.
We’d sat next to each other for our first lecture on day one in first year and I’d noticed his very posh D4 Dublin accent immediately. Thankfully, Cian took my ribbing about being a D4 head with all the sass he treated everything with - dry wit.
To my classic "How do you know a D4 head went to private school? They’ll tell you in the first five minutes of meeting them.” He told me I was a bog trotter, and my outfit showed all the signs of it. We’d been best friends ever since.
I hadn’t said anything to him about the date with Ronan or that it was Ronan’s last class. He was on the extreme end of dramatic, and I wouldn’t have gotten through the hour without him embarrassing me in one way or another.
Cian had already made enough of a point by overreacting whenever Ronan and I engaged in some light verbal sparring in class, or when Ronan held my stare with those smouldering eyes too long.
He managed to rake his gaze down my body in a way that felt like he could see through my clothes, without anyone else (aside from Cian) in the class noticing.
Anytime he pulled that stunt, I nearly slipped out of my chair.
.. clean up on aisle nine if you looked at me like that again professor.
Fuck, I wanted to climb that man like a tree, but there were too many emotions mixed in now for a one-time thing with him. I knew the tingles and one night would never be enough.
“Well, don’t you look gorgeous this morning, Hun,” Cian appraised me. “Any special effort today maybe?”
“Well, considering I’m in workout clothes with hardly any makeup on, obviously not,” I answered blandly, taking my coffee from him and making my way to the classroom.
My heart pounded with anxiety at the thought of seeing Ronan and I schooled my expression into bored indifference so the consuming crush I had for Professor Ride wasn’t written all over my face.
I saw him leaning against the desk at the front of the room as I walked in, but I studiously averted my gaze.
I tried with everything I had to not do my usual farmer plod walk as I made my way to my seat.
As soon as I settled in, I could feel his eyes on me and after a second of fussing with my laptop, I looked up and met his eyes.
His jaw was tense, but his eyes were bright as he quirked his lips in a half smile and did a head-to-toe slow exploration of my body.
The class was three-quarters full, but everyone was chatting and distracted while they took their seats, so no one was looking at either of us. I tilted my head when he met my gaze again. He bit his lip to hide a smile before he turned away and called the class to order again.
“Alright everyone, this is my last class with you as Professor Murphy will be back from her leave next week. We’re going to cover the last requirements of your group assessment to be submitted next week, which Professor Murphy will grade.”
I stopped paying attention to his words and just focused on the bulge of his biceps as he folded his arms and took up position against the desk again.
I took the odd note for the rest of the class but mostly distracted myself with fantasies about what the night would bring, and gut-wrenching panic that he’d bail or have forgotten.
What if I was sitting at home waiting at seven o’clock and he didn’t show?
I never should have told the girls; I didn’t think I could face them if that happened.
I jolted out of my spiral as I heard everyone getting up to leave, realising class was over. I fumbled with my bag and laptop when Ronan called me back.
“Can I have a word, Miss Tierney?”
I stepped out of the stream making their way through the door and walked in front of where he stood at his desk, purposely leaving him very little personal space as I stood closer than I should.
“Can you be ready a little earlier tonight? Around quarter to seven instead?” he asked as if continuing a conversation about our plans.
“Why, what’s tonight?” I asked innocently, wanting to see how he’d play this as I tried to wrest some control back in this power struggle we were in.
He cocked his brow as he eyed me. “Let’s pretend I believe for a second that you forgot that I’m taking you out tonight. With this brand-new information, can you be ready for six forty-five? I have a surprise planned.”
“I don’t think I actually agreed to you taking me out, you know,” I hedged. “More like you informed me I’d be going and didn’t wait for an answer.”
“I don’t need an answer out of your mouth, Róisín. You give me that answer every time your eyes trail me around the room,” he said, voice low.
“That’s presumptuous of you. Seems more like the other way around to me,” I deflected. There was zero denying my attraction to him, but he could never know how desperately I wanted him or that he’d occupied about eighty percent of my thoughts on a steady stream for a month now.
“Oh, I’m definitely watching you Róisín. I can’t seem to keep my eyes off you. Can’t get you out of my head either,” he admitted, dipping his chin to meet my gaze. I blushed and shifted my weight, feeling like my little game of playing coy was blowing up in my face.
“I suppose I can make myself available for that time,” I cleared my throat as I answered, trying to regain some composure even while I pressed my legs together at the tingling sensation between my thighs as he pushed off the desk and stood chest to face with me, I craned my neck back to keep eye contact.
“Text me your address then, sweetheart, and I’ll be seeing you later,” he leaned down to say against the shell of my ear. I shivered as he stepped back with a smirk and gestured to the door for me to leave.
I was going to need to take an ice-cold shower to avoid begging that man... because divine Jesus, did I want him. Bad. And Ronan seemed like just the type of man that could squish my heart into a thousand pieces if I gave him half the chance.